


Only a Matter of Time and Place

by nerakrose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Humour, M/M, busted!sex, desk!sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-09
Updated: 2011-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerakrose/pseuds/nerakrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy is wearing the gayest costume in the world and doesn’t think he’ll pull. At all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only a Matter of Time and Place

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for samhain_smut at LJ (2011), for prompt #61. "What are you going as for Halloween?".

Percy pulled on his collar and groaned at his mirror image.

Whoever had come up with the idea (George, of course, why had he listened to him to begin with?) of Will Scarlet, had clearly no idea just how uncomfortable the costume was. Or wait, maybe he did and that was why Percy was now dressed to the nines in 13th century _tights_ and a very, very gay and scratchy _red_ shirt of sorts, with puffy sleeves and lace and why was it all _red_? The shirt clashed with his hair horribly, horribly badly, not to mention that he looked like a poof.

Okay, so he was a poof, but that was besides the point.

Really, he was going to kill George.

He put the hat on (red! why, oh whyyyyy), which turned out to be charmed - the moment it touched his head, his hair looked luscious and blond. Percy adjusted the feathers to droop artfully over the side. Or well, that was what they were meant to do, except the feathers looked half dead, hanging limply over the side of the hat.

Percy groaned again.

So he looked even more like a poof now, with his hair glamoured blond, but at least his hair didn’t clash with the costume anymore. He picked up his invitation and checked that he’d gotten everything right. 8pm, Ministry Ballroom, costumes mandatory (anonymising glamours in effect!), finger food and free bar.

Blond didn’t suit him in the least, but since no one was going to recognise him anyway, Percy thought it could’ve been worse.

 

The ballroom was full of people that all had the same vague doll face plastered onto their own faces and Percy was starting to get _creeped out_. Seriously, whose idea (couldn’t have been George this time) was this? Percy made a face at his tumbler of less-than-decent firewhiskey - free bar apparently did not mean luxury - and looked around. So far he’d chatted with three Merlins, one cowboy, Celestina Warbeck (Percy suspected that was actually Penelope, her voice had grated on him in much the same way as Penelope’s had started doing towards the end of their relationship) and one of the dozen Harry Potters (really? _Really?_ Did people have no imagination?)

Percy tossed the not-quite-firewhiskey aside and went for the food; time to do the socially awkward thing and stuff himself with canapés. Also, he was hungry. A little.

Someone in a green costume quite similar to Percy’s own (only less gay) sidled up next to him. Percy looked over, holding out the plate of canapés he’d collected in a friendly ‘I’m totally up for a chat’ gesture.

“Let me guess,” Percy said, “Robin Hood?”

“Yep,” Robin Hood grinned. “You’re the first one to guess.”

“Yeah well.” Percy shrugged. “I’m Will Scarlet.” He snorted. “Not that that wasn’t obvious.”

“You not fond of the costume?” Robin Hood asked, finally picking a piece of something that looked like a tower of salmon and olives on a stick off Percy’s plate.

“Not really. Wasn’t my idea, but as I didn’t really fancy going as Dumbledore...” Percy trailed off. “Not that it’d have made much of a difference, I guess. I’d have been a poof either way.”

Robin Hood cracked a wide smile (Merlin, how those glamoured smiles creeped Percy out) and winked. Percy blinked.

“Not that I, uh, have anything against poofs - I mean, I’m, well, I’m gay. And I suppose I’ve got as good a chance as anyone pulling in this costume.” Percy shrugged and hoped the glamour concealed his blush. “What with looking like the pooftiest poofter in the room.”

“At least you don’t look devastatingly straight,” Robin Hood grinned. “I’ve turned down three women already.” He made a face.

Percy smiled. “Who’d you come with? There is only one Will Scarlet around and I’m him.”

“My sister. She’s Marion.” Robin Hood pointed across the room. “Which I suppose makes the whole thing slightly incestuous...” he trailed off. “All right, Will Scarlet, love of Robin’s life -”

“I wouldn’t say he was the love of Robin’s life, but he was certainly his fucktoy, wasn’t he?” Percy interrupted.

“Same thing.” Robin Hood shrugged, but there was a twinkle in his eye. “Want a drink? I smuggled in some of Ogden’s finest in a hip flask.”

“I like you,” Percy said, putting his plate down (and realising he hadn’t actually eaten a single one of those canapés yet). He cast a quick glance around but no one was paying them any attention. “Right...”

“You work here, right? You must know the secret hiding places...”

Percy frowned and wondered the merits of taking Robin Hood (and his extremely tight...tights - do NOT look there, Percy, ohfuck now he’s noticed) to his office. “We, er, I know a place...this way,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at Robin Hood or his crotch as he made his way towards one of the exits.

“You know, if this building had a roof, I’d be taking you there,” Robin Hood said cheerfully. “Like they do in Muggle films....they sit on roofs and drink and have Meaningful Conversations and Meaningful Kisses and All Sorts Of Other Meaningful Things...”

“Yeah, well, you and me can have Meaningful Conversations and all that stuff in my boss’ office,” Percy said and inclined his head towards a door at the end of the hall. “I don’t think anyone will bother us there.”

“Your boss’...” Robin Hood’s eyes widened at the sight of the nameplate on the door.

“Is there a problem?” Percy asked, hand on the doorknob.

“Uh, no, not at all...” Robin Hood glanced back the direction they came from. “What if your boss needs his office?”

“I don’t think there’s a risk, honest. If I know my boss at all, he’s not going to randomly come wandering down here.” Percy shrugged. “You in?”

“All right,” Robin Hood conceded. “I’m in.” He drew a hip flask from somewhere inside his puffy shirt as he followed Percy inside.

Percy lit the desk lamp and then promptly sat down in front of it, beckoning Robin Hood to join him. Robin handed him the hip flask before flopping down.

“I’ve got a refilling charm on it, so don’t be shy,” he grinned as Percy took a small sip.

“Brilliant.” Percy took another sip. “Good stuff. The piss they were serving in there was making me sick.”

“Mmmh. So, Scarlet-boy, what do you do?”

“Well, I work here. In this department. For this man.” Percy pointed at the desk behind him. “You?”

“Well, I don’t.” Robin took the hip flask back and took a generous gulp.

Percy snorted. “You’ve got to give me more than that.”

“I’m a quidditch player,” Robin then said, with a half-lopsided grin that wasn’t part of the glamour (was it wearing off? fuuuuu-) and made him look much more human.

“Quidditch player,” Percy repeated, voice somewhat strained. A million images of various quidditch players flitted through his mind, most of which were in a state of undress as memorized from the centrefold of Wizard Weekly. “Oh.”

Robin Hood laughed. “You!” He grinned. “You like quidditch players! What is it? The uniform? The flying bit? The _abs_?”

Percy made a weak sound in his throat and picked the hip flask out of Robin’s hand. “It’s _everything_ ,” he said and took a large sip, then another. “But I suppose...the abs are a big part of it.” Percy handed the flask back (was he hard yet? How could he check without being obvious? Calm down, Percy, calm) and cast a brief glance at his own crotch. Semi. Oh. Fuck.

“Mh, I see,” Robin said, taking the flask back. “Want to see my abs?”

“ _What_?”

“If you like them, I might let you ride my broomstick,” Robin said, nudging Percy with his elbow. Percy nearly choked on his own spit.

“I...” he said weakly. He didn’t have to check to know that he was rock hard by now. Why was he wearing tights again? Oh yeah. Will Bloody Scarlet. “Uh...”

“Are you always this eloquent? Or are you just happy to see me?” Robin grinned, inching closer. He was gesturing towards Percy’s crotch. The hip flask had been abandoned for the while.

“That’s not what it goes like,” Percy protested, turning to face Robin. He was cut short by a pair of warm and moist lips. “Mmph!”

“I’ll give you my autograph...in a private place,” Robin whispered against his lips, resting his hand on Percy’s thigh. It was slowly sliding towards his crotch. “After I’ve tested _your_ broomstick...and maybe polished it a little...”

“All right, Mr. Quidditch Player,” Percy gulped, clutching the front of Robin’s shirt. “I’m all in.”

“Fantastic,” Robin grinned and blatantly groped Percy’s crotch. “Promising,” he whispered and found Percy’s lips again, kissing him hard.

Percy snorted (and gasped, but he ignored that). “I _know_ I’ve got a big dick. Are you going to do something about it or not?” he asked, figuring he could allow himself to be bossy because, well, this wasn’t really him. And he was in a costume. (And even if he was probably every bit as bossy back in real life, hey, he was allowed to pretend.)

Robin Hood aka Mr. Quidditch Player chuckled and started unbuttoning Percy’s shirt. Percy (inwardly) bemoaned the fact that he’d chosen an elaborate costume that had layers and therefore wasn’t very easy to get out of. Also, the tights had buttons all the way up to the middle of his chest, which wasn’t exactly sexy.

Mr. Abs (ohh, Percy could feel them under the fabric of his shirt) was wearing the same kind of costume, so Percy decided to speed things up a little.

“Hold on,” he mumbled, grabbing his wand and standing up. He held his hand out for Robin, who got to his feet, eyebrow raised in question. “Undressing charm,” Percy explained and waved the wand in a triple eight figure, first over himself and then over Robin. Their buttons popped, laces unlaced and their clothes fell off, bunching around their ankles.

“Nice,” Mr. Abs remarked (those abs almost looked better than they’d felt) and pulled Percy into a kiss, his hands sliding over his naked back. “You look better without your clothes on.”

“I’m just an office boy,” Percy replied (he just couldn’t stop touching those abs, or those arms, or - oh! that _arse_ ).

“I like office boys.”

“I think you should fuck me on the desk.”

Mr. Arse Of Iron grinned his not-quite-part-of-the-glamour smile and lifted Percy onto the desk, settling between his legs. “So, Office Boy, got a desk fetish?” He asked, moving close enough for their cocks to touch.

Percy swallowed. And nodded. He also had a problem trying to keep his eyes off Mr. Extremely Fit and his cock, so Percy did the only sane thing to do in such a situation and wrapped his hand firmly around both their cocks (oh, brilliant), and stroked.

“Oh,” Robin Very Hard Wood groaned (Percy was very secretly impressed with the nicknames he was coming up with). “Mhh...”

“I want to do so many things to you,” Percy surprised himself by saying. “I want to suck you...” Firm stroke. “And lick you, and fuck you, and tie you to my bed and fuck myself on you...” He groaned softly.

“Yes,” Mr. Abs nodded, curling his hand in Percy’s hair and crashing their lips together. “All that, and more.”

“Fuck me first. Here. We can go to my place after...” Percy tugged on their cocks. “If you want...”

“I like you, Office Boy,” Mr. Perfect Body said and nibbled on Percy’s lips. “Lie back. I’m dying to fuck you...you’re delicious, you know that?” He licked Percy’s neck. “Tell me, do you wear glasses normally?”

“Uh, yeah...I do,” Percy stuttered. “Left them at home tonight...Charmed my eyesight for the occasion...” He kissed Mr. Quidditch God hard and then let go of their cocks (not that he wanted to), to lean back onto his elbows.

Robin Hood or Mr. Impressive Cock, fumbled in the pile of clothes on the floor until he’d located a small vial of lube. Percy lifted up his legs, balancing his feet on the edge of the desk, exposing his arse. Robin uncorked the vial and dipped his index and middle fingers into the lube, then immediately started rubbing them against Percy’s arsehole. The vial was flung onto the desk and vanished in the mess Percy had managed to make of writing utensils and accessories.

“Go on,” Percy croaked, tipping his head back. His hat fell off. “Stop dawdling and put your fingers in.”

“You’re a redhead,” Mr. Taking Too Long said, a hint of wonder in his voice. He slipped one finger in nonetheless.

“Mh, I know. Can you do that a bit faster?” Percy pushed the hat away and laid down, pulling his legs up a bit further (and hoped the ministry glamour would stick now that the hat was gone). “I’m so horny right now I wouldn’t even care if you fucked me without prep,” Percy said impatiently, causing Robin to smile.

“I’m getting there,” he said, adding another finger, and when Percy made an impatient noise, a third. “Are you always this bossy?”

“I think so,” Percy said, lazily stroking his own cock while waiting for Mr. Too Fucking Long to get on with it. “Oh for fucks sake, just fuck me already! No more fiddling!”

“Okay,” Robin croaked, withdrawing his fingers. “I’ll just - oh...” He gripped Percy’s hips and pulled him towards the very edge of the desk, his cock nudging insistently against his arse. “Legs on my shoulders?”

“Not bendy enough,” Percy replied and hooked them around his waist instead. He fumbled until he found Robin’s dick, guiding him. “Go on, put it in.”

Robin’s grip on Percy’s hips tightened as he pushed, and there was a rather glorious blush on his cheeks (Percy reckoned that ministry glamour was going to wear off within the next ten minutes or so, but he found he didn’t care, not when he had his arse full of rock hard cock).

“Ohhh...” Percy moaned, grabbing Robin’s shoulders as he leaned forward. “Good god, that’s...oh...” He dug his heels into his back, urging him to move.

“Ohyes,” Robin breathed, thrusting tentatively, and then again, harder, when finding that Percy didn’t seem to be in much pain. “You do this often, Office Boy?” he asked, lifting his hips a little to get a better angle.

“No...”

“No?”

Percy shook his head, then gasped as Robin started thrusting in earnest. “Just - oh - got a huuuge...mmmh...dildo - oh! in my drawer...” His fingers dug into Robin’s shoulders (ohh those shoulders! Absolutely perfectly sculpted, those).

For a while the only sounds were those of panting and the _slop slop_ of Robin Hood’s balls slapping against Percy’s arse (and the desk, but it didn’t seem to bother Robin in the least). Percy sneaked a hand down to wrap around himself, stroking in time with the thrusts.

Sir Fucks Very Good grunted and batted Percy’s hand away, taking over the job himself. Percy whined, in a teeny tiny protest (Robin’s hands were huge and rough and felt so very, very good on his cock), and Robin leaned down to lick a nipple and sucked on it, and Percy plain forgot where he was. He knocked Robin’s hat off and curled his fist in his hair, not allowing him to back away now.

Neither noticed voices outside the office door, or the subtle click as the door opened (Percy was far too occupied with Mr. I Have An Exceptionally Skilled Mouth, not to mention the cock in his arse), but both noticed a stripe of light falling onto them.

“O-Oliver?” Someone stuttered and Robin froze.

So did Percy.

He knew that voice well, very well actually, and he didn’t dare look (why did I take Mr. Abs to my boss’ office again? fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-), but then he registered what he’d _said_ -

 _Oliver_?

Percy looked at the man on top of him and saw that the ministry glamour had worn off completely and that the owner of the cock in his arse was in fact, Oliver Wood. His boss’ son. (FUUUUUUUUUUU-)

Oliver was looking at the man in the doorway as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes. “Uh, dad? Mum? I - er...”

 _Mum?_ Percy was going to die. And then he was going to be FIRED. He covered his face with his hands as his own glamour must’ve worn off as well (as if his boss wouldn’t immediately know who he was - there was only one person with hair as red as his that he could possibly know).

“... _Percy_?”

“I’m not here,” Percy muttered, mortified. “Please tell me this isn’t happening...”

“Uh, dad? Mum? eh, do you _mind?_ I’ll, er... uhm...”

Percy peeked out through his fingers and saw that Oliver’s mum seemed to have frozen in shock, while his dad didn’t really know what to do. Percy also realised, to both his amusement and horror, that _Oliver’s hand was still firmly wrapped around his dick. Which was still hard. Very._

He was so going to get fired.

His boss (Oliver’s dad - his boss - Merlin’s Bloody Fucking Frayed Pants) cleared his throat. “I’ll, er, leave you to it. Still coming - er, see you tomorrow. Tea. Or...right. Going now.”

The door clicked shut.

Percy was still hiding behind his hands.

“Oh no,” he wailed, “what was I bloody thinking? I’ll get fired!”

“You won’t. Percy,” Oliver said, prying Percy’s hands away from his face. “But you and me were in the middle of something...” He smiled wryly.

“We were,” Percy conceded, blushing a little bit. Just a little.

“Want to finish it?”

“ _Here?!_ ”

“Well...” Oliver shrugged. “I’ve still got my cock in your arse, so we might as well.” He underlined his words with a small thrust, ramming straight into Percy’s prostate.

“Oh-kay,” he breathed and Oliver (Sir Fucks Very Good) Wood grinned and lifted Percy’s head up for a kiss.

“Good.”

He thrust again and resumed stroking Percy’s cock, and he did that thing again with his mouth that Percy had liked, and soon he was crying out and spilling over Oliver’s hand, and Oliver was grunting and coming inside Percy’s arse, and it was all a bit too fast, but Percy didn’t really care.

“I’m still going to get fired,” he muttered, fingers still tight in Oliver’s hair.

“I’ll make sure you won’t,” Oliver mumbled and Percy shot him a dirty look (in vain, because Oliver’s eyes were closed and anyway his head was resting on Percy’s chest so he wouldn’t have seen either way).

“Oh come on. My boss just walked in to find his employee having sex with his _son_ on his _desk_. Of course I’m bloody going to get fired!”

Oliver raised his head. “Okay, so you’ll get fired. Do I still get to go to your place for a repeat performance of this?”

Percy shot him a doubly dirty look, which for some inexplicable reason made Oliver laugh.

“Look, I’ll tell my dad it was all my fault. Anyway, I think he’s plenty distracted with having found out his son is a pillow biter, so I wouldn’t worry too much.” He stuck the tip of his tongue out at Percy’s nipple.

Percy huffed.

“I like you, Office Boy,” Oliver whispered in what he probably thought was a seducing manner, but what Percy thought made him sound like he had a cold. “If not your place, mine?”

“...Is there breakfast included?”

“Yup.”

“How about a shower?”

“Of course.”

“And getting off this bloody desk? I think I’ve got a quill trying to take notes on my left arse cheek.”

Oliver burst out laughing and quickly kissed Percy before taking himself off him. “Let’s get dressed and out of here.”

He picked up his clothes, but only bothered doing his tights up half-way (Percy noticed that the buttons on Oliver’s tights went all the way up to the throat) and slung on the first shirt layer without closing it. Percy, on the other hand, performed a reversed undressing charm to get his clothes back on, much to Oliver’s amusement.

“You’re not really pissed off, are you?” he asked, after taking in Percy’s somewhat tight-lipped appearance. “It was a bloody good shag.”

“Interrupted by your father, I might add,” Percy said, then narrowed his eyes. “How come you were still up for continuing? The one time my mum walked in on me I couldn’t get it up for a _week_ afterwards.” He shuddered at the memory.

“Something to do with the brilliant arse my cock was hiding in, I suppose,” Oliver grinned and pulled Percy into a quick half-squeeze. “Come on. My place, breakfast, shower and another shag. Though maybe not in that order.” He nodded towards the floo behind the desk, eyebrow raised.

Percy had to admit he rather liked the prospects of that.

Also, this was Oliver. Mr. Quidditch Player, Abs, Arse of Iron and Sir Fucks Very Good.

He supposed he could do worse.

“All right,” he said. “Though I think I could do with a stiff drink as well.”

“I’m sure we -”

“Can we please not have bad puns about stiff this or stiff that?” Percy interrupted, rubbing his face.

Oliver smiled and held the jar of floo powder out for Percy. “After you, Office Boy.”

“Get stuffed,” Percy sniffed and grabbed a handful of powder.


End file.
